Just another Saturday

To be clear, the only reason I’ve dragged out this laptop at 11:28pm is because I took some photos tonight, the first time I’ve used my camera in weeks, and I want to use the only decent shot I took. But now that I’m writing, let me give you a run down on my day.

The dog

I woke early, courtesy of The Dog Fred, who’s deaf and can’t see very well. We keep the old fella inside now but that doesn’t stop him barking at shadows and hinted movement across the street. Robbers could storm the walls of our fortress to ransack and pillage and the hound would likely sleep through it all. But as night’s curtain rises and the world shakes itself awake, our aged mutt greets the morning with a querulous, continuous yap. These days there’s no hope of a peaceful lie-in.

Despite trudging downstairs determined to yell at Fred, instead I grabbed his lead and called him for a walk. He jumped like a puppy, bounding out the door with tail in full flight, but pulled up at the top of the veranda stairs. He reached one paw tentatively down but stopped and turned to look at me, sad and confused. His lameness shocked me. While I know it’s inevitable, I’m not prepared for my furry companion’s decline.

For a few months now I’ve noticed him struggle going downstairs. I thought it might be hip issues but he still leaps like a teenager . Then I remembered him licking his foreleg often this past week. I’m wondering if there’s something going on with that?

I picked him and carried him down the veranda steps, resolving to call the vet on Monday.

Walking

Fred and I walked, slowly, to the corner cafe where we met The Husband for coffee and eggs. Then the boys went home while I set off on foot for the shops. None of my clothes fit and it’s time to get serious about losing weight. Walking isn’t going to shift the excess in a hurry but it’s a healthy, sustainable and enjoyable option. It’s a start. And I love slowing down, soaking in the gardens and architecture and characters of my neighbourhood.

Giving blood

On the way home, I walked past a Red Cross mobile blood bank. If I’d been driving I’d have sailed on by without a second glance. But as a pedestrian I had time to think and act on impulse. And I did both, stopping to make an appointment and returning an hour later to give blood.

Technical victory

This afternoon I should have done banking or bookwork or applied for a new passport. Instead I revisited a page on my website that’s been giving me grief.

Through the work I’ve done on Project Odyssey (more on that another day), I’ve learnt how to create custom posts and associated layouts. I hoped to apply this knowledge to my Portfolio page, making it look better and easier to update.

Yesterday I spent hours sourcing images for many of the magazine editions I’ve contributed to then set about creating the custom post type and layout.

But I couldn’t get it to work. I went over and over my process, reviewing each step and comparing what I’d done in the other site. I even turned to social media for help. No joy. But I persisted, playing with field settings and short codes and experimenting with design until finally the penny dropped. Now my Portfolio page is a thing of beauty. Of course, it would look better if I had more publications to showcase. #WorkingOnIt

Social

After a week lived mostly in tracksuit and sneakers, I yearned for a night out. The husband agreed, so I brushed my hair and dusted off the lipstick for dinner at Southbank. The wine at Mr Paganini was undrinkable but the pizza and cauliflower risotto sang. And even though The Husband really wanted to go straight home to his armchair and crosswords, he indulged my need to take photos. Enjoy.

copywriting me

Angela Bensted is Brisbane-based freelance writer who likes to listen first and struggle with syntax later. She pitches stories to magazines, sometimes successfully, and helps businesses produce compelling copy for print and online.

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